#i hope this brings some sort of comfort for someone

[rosenclaws]

Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

[blackenedsnow]

Ooo I have another fun idea! How about a friends with benefits relationship with Beetlejuice which ends up turning into genuine romance?

Like they literally met because Beetlejuice tried marrying them to get free, which doesn't work, and he ends up continuing to seek the reader out because they interest him and they go along with his shenanigans

During all those years they've known each other they've ended up being very close friends and roommates of sorts (who have absolutely slept with each other multiple times and will continue to do so) but they also unconsciously tend to act like an actual, loving couple

Anyone mistakes them for being a couple? Neither or them correct or deny that claim and just go along with it

Then Beetlejuice ends up realizing that he's deeply in love with them and he genuinely wants to marry them, not just to be free anymore

Sorry for rambling, this is how I write my oc's relationship with him and it's so much fun to write :3

dead serious

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: I love this idea SO much! Thank you for sending this request, and I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to drop more ideas like this anytime—I'd love to bring them to life. <3

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice thought it was just a bit of fun—until one day, he realizes he’s dead serious about you.

It all started with Beetlejuice trying to marry you.

The memory was a bit of a haze, him in that ridiculous striped tux, a minister who’d looked like he’d stepped out of a Halloween party, and a whole lot of confusion. Of course, the whole “marriage for freedom” thing didn’t work out, and somewhere between you foiling his plan and that wicked glint in his eye, Beetlejuice decided you were worth sticking around for.

Over the years, you two had… an arrangement. It was strange, fun, sometimes loud, and weirdly comfortable. You became roommates of sorts, though he tended to crash wherever suited his mood—on the couch, on the floor, in random places all over your home. You’d gone from reluctantly amused by him to genuinely fond of him. The playful insults, the late nights, the times you both ended up in each other’s arms—it all somehow just worked.

And despite both of you calling it “friends with benefits”, anyone who saw you two together assumed you were a couple. You two acted the part without even realizing it: hanging off each other, teasing, little gestures that were oddly affectionate. Beetlejuice’s arm often found its way around your shoulders, or you’d catch him leaning into your space with that wolfish grin of his, not minding any extra closeness.

Every time someone would go, “Oh, so you two are together?” Beetlejuice would just flash his sharp grin and shrug, “They just can’t get enough of me.” And you? You’d just roll your eyes and play along, half-laughing, “Someone’s gotta put up with him, right?”

But then one day, Beetlejuice started realizing that his feelings were a little too real. Maybe it was the time you calmed him down after he’d picked a fight with some Neitherworld spirits, gently telling him to stop being such an idiot as he just grinned at you, too close for comfort. Or maybe it was the time he woke up, half-sprawled across your lap, and you’d fallen asleep right beside him, looking peaceful in a way that made something in his long-dead heart flicker.

But the moment that hit him hardest was the time a stranger came up and assumed you were married.

“Oh, how long have you two been together?” they asked, clearly mistaking the two of you as something much more than a casual fling. Beetlejuice looked at you, wondering if you’d laugh it off as usual, but instead, you just shrugged with a grin, “Feels like forever, doesn’t it, Beej?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, caught off guard by the sudden warmth he felt in his chest. “Forever and then some.”

That was the beginning of the end—he couldn’t deny it anymore. He didn’t just want to mess around, have his fun, or even just be free from the Neitherworld. He wanted you. He wanted to be the one who could make you laugh, who you’d come home to, who you’d stick around for.

You two were in your usual rhythm when it happened. You were in the kitchen, cooking up something simple, and he was leaning against the counter, watching you with a smirk.

“Ya know,” he said, “you’re real cute when you’re domestic.”

You raised an eyebrow, flipping something in the pan. “Thanks, I guess? You’ve seen me make breakfast, like, a hundred times.”

“Yeah, but it’s still cute,” he said, brushing it off like it was no big deal. He got that look in his eye, though—the one that said he was winding up for something.

As you turned to grab something from the fridge, you felt him sidle up behind you. His hands rested on either side of you, and he dipped his head down, voice going surprisingly soft.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You froze. For a moment, you thought maybe he was joking, this was so random, but something in his tone was different, almost… vulnerable.

“Uh,” you said, turning around to face him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “are you serious?”

He gave a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head. “As serious as I get, babe! Which, y’know, is pretty serious.” There was a nervous glint in his eye, something real.

You stared at him, feeling a rush of emotions you hadn’t fully let yourself consider before. He was looking at you like he’d just discovered something precious.

“You mean it?” you asked, still not entirely believing it.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, mushy stuff. I mean it, alright? I’m not saying it just to, y’know…” He shrugged, looking off to the side, “get outta the Neitherworld or whatever. I just… want to.”

A warmth spread in your chest. “Well, I… I love you too.”

His eyes lit up, and his grin widened until it looked like it would split his face. “See? We’re a match made in—well, not heaven, but close enough!”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “How romantic.”

“Oh, you love it,” he said, pulling you into a kiss that was surprisingly soft, lingering in a way that felt different from all the other times. When you broke apart, he looked at you with a glimmer of something new, something genuine. But still... ew.

“Say, what d’you think about actually making it official?” he asked, voice a little gruffer than usual. “I know the whole marriage thing didn’t pan out last time, but what if we tried again? For real.”

You blinked, taking a moment to process. “You’re not just doing this to get out of—”

“Nah,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to get free of the Neitherworld for good, but that’s not why I’m asking now. I’m askin’ ’cause… well, it’s you.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

[obitos-whore]

Hii!! can you do some n(sfw) headcanons for our boy obito🩷🙏

Your wish is my command, nonnie. I hope you like 'em <3

18+ Minors, do not interact

────────────────────────────────────

SFW

Obito is fiercely protective of his partner and would let the whole world burn and turn to ash for the sake of his darling's safety and comfort

Can't keep his hands off you for too long and will always seek out even the tiniest bit of physical contact

Despite his rather rugged/intimidating appearance, he is a total sweetheart for you and a hopeless romantic too

He is not afraid of showing his love and devotion through gifts or all sorts of favours, no matter how big or small they are. And if someone pokes fun at him for being "soft", "mushy" or, Jashin forbid, "a total simp", he will just get snarky with them and very crudely remind them of the fact that he is at least loved by someone

Before he asked you out, Obito always behaved a bit awkward around you to try and get your attention. He would brag about this super-duper, top secret and incredibly hard to master jutsu he was currently learning. Or he would try to show off his strength and skills in hand-to-hand combat with Kakashi (who was dragged into this whole stuff against his will)

Other things he did include: Sneaking glances at you and smiling subconsciously whenever you weren't looking. (Or he at least thought you weren't paying attention.). Always offering to help you with things, such as your studies or carrying your groceries home for you. Bringing you little trinkets from his missions he thought you might like or that reminded him of you. Paying very close attention to things you did/ate/say and taking mental notes of every. single. thing that could help him with courting you

During the first two to three months of your relationship, Obito was still very shy and hesitant to go further than holding hands and kissing/cuddling

Full on make-out sessions, with some groping here and there, were the spiciest he was willing to do. But even then, he always asked if you were comfortable with it, if he was too rough, etc.

It wasn't until you two had your first time together that he discovered the joys of sex and the seemingly endless opportunities to enjoy each other, whether by doing it in different positions, using toys or even roleplaying (A different turning point for the one-eyed Uchiha if you will)

King of aftercare. He will shower you with praises and lots of kisses and cuddles after every session, no matter if it was vanilla or not. Makes sure you're properly hydrated and fed, as well as thoroughly cleaned before and especially afterwards

NSFW

As a busy shinobi, he often has to ignore his needs for the sake of his missions. Which often leads to a lot of pent up sexual frustration. And when I say "a lot", I mean a lot!

He will take you every opportunity he gets and he won't necessarily be gentle either. At least not always

Sometimes he just needs to fuck. Screw the whole "sweet and passionate lovemaking" shit he's usually up for. There is nothing sweet or tender about the way he'll be ravaging you

Will hiss the dirtiest things in your ear while he ruts into you like a man possessed. His hands all over you, gripping your throat, tugging at your hair, spanking you or pinning your arms above your head so tightly, you'll be wearing the imprints of his fingers around your wrists for days

He does not limit himself to your bedroom. Every place with a surface to bend you over at or push you against will make do

Will make you suck him off while he goes over important documents or writes a report, and stroke your head every now and then and call you all sorts of pet names, such as "Love", "Sweetheart" or "Baby"

But on days where he feels very dominant, his nicknames will be less adoring and a bit more degrading. Something along the lines of "Pet" or "Plaything"

On those days, he also makes you call him "Sir", "Hokage-sama", or basically anything that suggests that he's the one in control

If he's away on a mission and his need for you gets too unbearable, Obito will either wait until it's late at night, or excuse himself for a couple of minutes, and straight up Kamui back home and drain his balls into you in a messy quickie

He's a total switch who enjoys receiving as much as he enjoys giving and trusts his partner completely when it comes to using toys on him

A sucker for getting praised. Just tell him he's being such a good boy while pleasuring you and watch him become putty in your hands and redouble his efforts just to hear you say that again

He is very open to trying new things with you, but he does not share his darling with anyone! No matter if it's a man/woman or someone who doesn't identify as either of those. You are his. His dick is the only thing that you need and get (with the exception of toys ofc) and he will make sure you'll remember that

Big fan of both orgasm denial and post orgasm torture. Hearing you whimper and plead him to let you cum/stop making you cum over and over again as you writhe below him is like music to his ears

[gothamhappiness]

I like to flirt with you, Red Hood! (Jason Todd x f!reader)

This is part 2 of this imagine

Warnings: no proof reading, fluff

Red Hood insisted on bringing you back home that night. He had no idea how to thank you for what you did for him, so making sure you arrived safely at your place was the least he could do. Your presence was bringing him a new kind of peace he never felt before as well.

If you always felt safe on his territory, you felt even better by his side. You felt like nothing could happen to you. You were at ease with him, you just hoped Batman didn't hurt him too badly. You walked as close as possible to him without touching him. The warmth of his body was smoothing you in the cold night surrounding the two of you.

You both stayed silent as Red Hood was following you home. Once you arrived at your building, you offered him to come upstairs with you because "he was a great bodyguard", and then you offered him to get inside because "he needed to get some rest".

Red Hood stayed a few instants without reacting, as you were gesturing for him to get inside. He peered inside your flat before his eyes went back on you.

"You really trust me" Red Hood quietly commented

"You're the only person I trust in this city" you proudly admitted "But you, do you trust me?" you asked

Red Hood entered your home, without thinking. It was rare to be able to trust someone so quickly in Gotham. But you both wanted to take the chance.

Or maybe it was simply love at first sight.

You closed the door behind him, giddy he was there, in your home. You always had a crush on him, he was so tall, so strong, so violent and yet so kind. He had this aura of danger and yet, now he felt like a protector. A guardian angel.

"Can I take care of your wounds? Or at least offer you some food?" you asked

"Food would be nice yes" he hummed

"No worries. Settle on the couch while I cook something away. You can play with my switch or watch the TV meanwhile" you replied

Jason had pushed his luck by accepting the food. He half wasn't believing you were truly going to make something for him. It all felt like a dream anyways. None of this could be true, so he should enjoy it while it lasted, he thought.

He removed his helmet, and a black domino mask greeted you. You smiled at how smart the man was.

After a little while, he helped you dress the table and you both settled to eat the food you prepared. You usually were too tired to cook anything after work, but it was different with Red Hood in your home. You wanted to look after him, like he always looked after the people living on his territory. It was the least you could do.

You waited for him to taste the food, before starting to eat. You were ready to get him something else if it wasn't to his liking.

"This is good" he praised you as he brightly smiled at you

"Glad you're enjoying" you replied and you started to eat as well, hoping he didn't notice how flushed your cheeks got at his compliment and smile

You finished to eat in a comfortable silence. Red Hood had too many thoughts swirling inside his head to hold a conversation, but you didn't mind. You were happy he was here.

You didn't find him intimidating at all.

Especially not when he insisted to help you with the dishes, no matter how much you protested. You both liked the sort of domestic vibes it had to it. Your shoulders touched at some point too. Red Hood almost broke a glass then and you teased him.

Before letting him go back outside, you gently put a hand on his arm:

"I know we don't know each other, but my home is always open to you... If you need somewhere to crash at, just knock at the door or at the window" you smiled

"Keep your window open then" he replied as he put his helmet back on to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

You nodded and smiled even more. You couldn't express how excited your were getting.

Without any warning, he softly grabbed your hands and gave you a little device with a red button on it. You looked up at him with a curious look written all over your face.

"If you're in trouble, push the button. I'll find you and keep you safe" he instructed you and your eyes lit up

"What if I just want to see you again?" you cheekily asked

"Push the button too" he hummed before looking away

Even with his helmet on, he couldn't hide the effect you were having on him. He thought it should be illegal for sure an attractive woman like you to flirt with him like that. How was he supposed to no completely become putty in your hands?

Damn, he couldn't be falling in love so easily. So quickly.

And yet, here he was.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

This part 2 was requested by @jasontoddsthunderthigh, hope you enjoyed!

[hannyoontify]

btw i hope you guys know that jeonghan’s serving as a social worker! i think this is most likely bc of his injuries but that means he serves 3 months longer compared to your average enlisted soldier in the army

BUT!! THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THIS!!! is that being a social worker is basically working a 9-5. jeonghan gets to go home to seungkwan every night, sleep in his own bed, and go to work. after basics training, he’s going to and from home every day! this means his free time is totally his and i’m going to assume he’ll be seeing the members as often as much as he (and the members) can afford, although he won’t be able to participate in promotions and activities, he’ll still be around!

i hope this brings some sort of comfort and encouragement for someone out there 🙏

edit: this also means less physical exertion for jeonghan too! so hopefully he can get through basics training without any injuries and finish his service without any serious injuries or incidents

a lil bit more info here!

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

I love you. Sorry about the world. I hope it gets better for all of us. Or at least, I hope you figure out how to experience the better parts of it. I think it's worth it. I know I said "sorry about the world" not two seconds ago, but I do think the world is pretty neat. Worth it to experience, 'cus you only get to experience it once

I hope you have a good day. Week. Life

[gyudons]

despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[ravenslvt]

fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.

☆ multiple x f!reader ☆

cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex

you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.

you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…

your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.

“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.

suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.

“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.

his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.

you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.

“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.

“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.

you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.

his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.

“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.

“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.

god, he loved that skirt.

you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.

ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.

your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.

your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.

“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.

“i’m not your-“

“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.

you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.

“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.

you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.

he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.

“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.

the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.

time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.

it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.

still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.

you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.

“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.

“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.

“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.

his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.

“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.

“mhmph” you mumble around them.

“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.

“just fuck me-“

smack

your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.

“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.

“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.

“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.

you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.

he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”

your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.

you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.

his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.

“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.

you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.

“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.

“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.

“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.

“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.

“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.

“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.

waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.

you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.

you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.

he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.

your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.

‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘

he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.

“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.

“…yea”

GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)

masterlist

[nyankochan]

Mating Season: Dragon Slayers x fem!reader

Synopsis: You personally hate when mating season comes around, because you are hopelessly lost to your desires. At least you have your mate to generously take care of you. Pairings: [SEPARATE] Natsu x Reader, Laxus x Reader, Sting x Reader, Rogue x Reader, Gajeel x Reader

Content: MDNI, fem! reader, reader is also a dragon slayer, rough sex, unprotected, bodyworship, breeding, Dacryphilia (Natsu), overstimulation, Slight asphyxiation (Laxus) mates (heat and rut cause it makes sense in my head), oral (male and female receiving), dirty talk (Sting & Gajeel), pet names (Sting calls you Angel and Gajeel calles you doll), slight degradation (Gajeel), shower sex (Rogue), cowgirl (Sting), I hope I didn’t forget anything else but sorry if I did.

Word count: 5.4K (I'm tired of my foolishness)

A/N: hoping I resurrect the Fairy Tail fandom with the upcoming release of Fairy Tail 100 year quest. I was going to add Cobra and Acnologia but this shit just got too long

Like clockwork, when early spring rolls around, around mid March to early April, you begin to notice changes. They're subtle changes, unnoticeable to even your closest friends around you at first. You're more antsy when away from your partner for long periods of time, and you've started nesting in your shared home. Just about every article of clothing that has yours and his scent has been gathered and formed into a little fort that brings you a sense of comfort when he's away for work. Still, it does nothing to quell the desire aching in between your legs, and as the days wear on, you grow increasingly frustrated and thus irritable. While you don't mean to, you end up snapping at your guildmates more frequently during this time, only mellowing down when your partner is around and you're comforted by the smell of their pheromones.

It's soon becomes virtually impossible for you to go on quests for an extended duration, and your partner subtly becomes clingier. He's on edge, without even realizing it, always guarding you from other males who foolishly stray too close and making you wear articles of clothing that smell like him. They begin picking fights with others more often, sometimes over the littlest things. They also always return with a gift of some sorts after completing a quest: jewelry, your favorite candy, useless trinkets that just caught their eye and thought you'd like. Your satisfaction appeases their ego and instinct to court you.

The changes in behavior is subtly picked up on by the rest of the guild and virtually no one questions it when the both of you go missing for a few weeks.

Natsu - 「Heated Passion」

Natsu is easily the densest and most combative during mating season. Although you've been mated for about three years now, he never seems to pick up right away what season it is, and you’re too embarrassed to vocalize your desire for him to fuck you senseless. Therefore, the rest of the guild is unfortunately victim to his pent up anger and overprotectivess. Gray talks to you? A fight. Loke offers you something he collected on one of his missions? A fight AND he’s trying to one up him with something even better.

Nastu is particularly hostile with Laxus and Gajeel, as they are the only other male dragon slayers. Laxus couldn’t be bothered. Gajeel on the other hand, definitely taunts him, but not to the point where he’d go so far as to do anything to you. He just likes pissing Natsu off. He would never disrespect someone else’s mate.

Of course though, Igneel had taught him what mating season is. Natsu’s not that dense. Rather, it just takes a minute for him to realize what time of year it is, and when he does, you’re his for the month.

The air is hot from the scent of Natsu’s pheromones mixing with yours. Your mind is hazy and clouded with lust, so you’re not even sure what day it is anymore. Your body is achy and littered with bite marks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, only wanting more.

“N-Natsu~” your pleas are a weak whimper.

Natsu currently has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder while his mouth’s attached to your weeping cunt. He eats you out like a starved man, greedily slurping down all you have to offer. As his tongue moves in and out of your folds at a rough pace, he holds your thighs tightly, burying his face deeper in between them. It doesn’t matter how many times he tastes you, he will never be satisfied. He gets painfully hard just from eating you out, his cock stiff and leaking pre-cum against his abdomen, and he could cum alone from the way your fingers weave in and tug on his hair.

This unfortunately means you’re left overstimulated from orgasm after orgasm. The bad part is, due to the intense haze caused by the excessive pheromones, Natsu truly doesn’t realize until you’re crying, practically begging for him to stop.

“N-no more.” You writhe against the sheets, turning your body to pull away from the greedy dragon slayer. “C-can’t cum anymore.”

A low growl resonates in the back of Natsu’s throat. He grabs and pulls you by your ankle, an easy feat from the way your legs feel like jello. You’re then pinned under his heavy body, sweat and heat radiating off the close proximity of his chest.

“Mine,” Natsu grumbles. He kisses away the tears trickling your cheeks before nuzzling against your neck. You let out a small whimper feeling the swollen head of his cock press against your hole. As you tense, Natsu intertwines his fingers with yours, a soft, subtle reassurance. “Mine…mine…please don’t leave, y/n”

“I’m yours, Natsu.”

Natsu’s canines graze the side of your neck before biting down harshly to draw blood. His hips snap against yours at quick pace while you keen helplessly against him. You feel so deliciously full, his cock reaching the deepest parts of your inner walls leaving you a moaning mess. Still, you want him closer, deeper. You wrap your legs around Natsu’s waist, your own hips bucking up to meet his. The newfound angle has you both shuddering from pleasure.

“Mine,” Natsu grunts. “Mine. My mate.”

See, when Natsu gets close to cumming, he begins to whine. His thrusts become more frantic and erratic as he desperately chases his release. Not even for his own pleasure, but his dragon instincts are telling him to breed. To fill you up and dripping with his seed.

He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, biting your bottom lip teasingly. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you’re coming undone. Your body shivers and your legs are twitching. Your orgasm releases another wave of pheromones which ultimately pushes Natsu over the edge.

With a low whine, his hips press against yours as his own release hits. He stills completely, ensuring he emptied inside you completely before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment of post-sex clarity and some of the intense pheromones disappear, you groan, “Natsu, you’re heavy.”

But he’s already passed out, and you’re stuck in his hold until he rouses you up for another round.

Laxus- 「Electric Desire」

Laxus tries hard to not show his annoyance when mating season rolls around. After all, you two have been mated for the longest out of any couple, so at this point, he should be used to it by now, right? Wrong. Laxus, despite not showing it, gets jealous easily. He won’t say anything directly, but it’s hard not to notice his intense aura that becomes somewhat suffocating to those around him when a member of the Thunder Legion, or worse, another male dragon slayer gets too close to you.

Laxus is less subtle about whisking you away. In fact, he has no problem with throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you out of the guild to your shared apartment.

“Oi, Laxus!” You squirm in his hold. “Put me down already. I’m capable of walking on my own.” Laxus merely ignores you and the strange stares you both get as he walks through Magnolia. After all, it’s taking everything in him to hold his composure as your scent makes him harder and harder. “Laaxusss~” you whine only to be met with a harsh slap against your ass.

By the time you guys make it home, Laxus has more than enough pent up frustration to release and you’re more than happy to receive. The moment the front door closes, Laxus wastes no time pressing you against it, his large hand around your throat as his lips roughly capture yours. You moan into the kiss, beginning to feel lightheaded. Although you do your best to push Laxus back to breathe, his massive frame overpowers yours. He pins your hands above your head, nudging your legs apart with his knee to get even closer. The overwhelming scent of his pheromones sends blood rushing to your head, a euphoric feeling of the pain, and it felt like you could pass out any moment.

You shamelessly rolled your hips against Laxus’s, groaning at the feeling of his erection straining against his pants. At this, Laxus lets out a throaty growl. Once again, he has you over his shoulder. The relief of air is brief as you’re soon thrown on to the living room couch. You don’t even make it down the hall to your shared bedroom.

Laxus was instantly over you. His hands ran under your shirt, tearing upward at the hem. And you didn't resist when he made short work of your pants. There was already a growing wet stain of your arousal on your lacy panties.

"I'm so wet for you, Laxy," You moaned, grinding your hips against your boyfriend trying to receive some sort of relief from friction. Laxus pinned you down, making you whine more, as he tears your underwear off.

“You like testing my patience, don’t you?” Laxus grunts, through his cheeks are beginning to flush red as the hazy desire begins to chip away at his restraint. He swiftly removes his shirt in one movement and starts to unbuckle his belt, freeing his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

The thing about Laxus was, he was big. He knew it. You knew it. He was a descent size even before getting erect. But you supposed with the increased testosterone during mating season, he somehow grew even bigger. The swollen, leaky tip is an angry red, and it throbs in Laxus’s hand as he aligns himself at your entrance.

“While I’m still somewhat sane,” Laxus huffed, nudging the tip slowly inside the warmth of your cunt. His body was flushed, muscles tense. “I apologize in advance. I don’t think I can hold back.”

Your raised your hips in anticipation. “Then don’t.”

Laxus glided the last couple of inches, burying his shaft to its hilt inside you. He groaned at the feeling, gripping your hips so tight they'd bruise. He was stretching you so wide that you felt like you would rip apart, your stomach bulging slightly from his size.

With a languid roll of his hips, he experimentally pulled his length out from the clamp of your hole. And with a sharp snap of agility only a dragon slayer could demonstrate, he drove himself back into your, the sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. Laxus's body shuddered slightly anticipation. You dug your nails in Laxus's shoulders trying to keep him close. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that threatened to shatter your pelvis with all the force Laxus was propelling into you. Each sharp, shooting pang of pain only amplified your enjoyment and arousal.

Laxus growled, fucking out of pure aggression. You could feel it with every frenzied pump of his hips. Lewd moans and the slapping of flesh resounded through the room. You began feeling light headed all over; your hips ached and your insides burned from Laxus's sharp violent thrusts.

Laxus groans, a telltale sign of him getting close. He hovered over You, leaning down to kiss you. His hands trailed up Your bare chest to your nipples that became erect from pleasure. Lips trailing up the side of your neck, Laxus left several bite marks. He reached the area where he had previously left his dragon slayer mark on You and sucked and bit at it aggressively.

"Ah a-ah t-that feels funny." You squirmed.

“you're mine and mine only," Laxus grunted before he bit down harshly. The mark didn't burn as bad as the first time Laxus had bit you, but it didn't mean that it still didn't hurt. “Mine…”

Laxus fumbled slightly, his aggressive and frantic rutting becoming slower and slightly sloppy, instead. You felt your own orgasm building up, to the point of almost bursting. Your body felt hot and sticky, yet you needed something to tilt you over the edge.

"L-Laxy... I need to cum," you whine. "It hurts. Please!"

"Heh..." Laxus laughed with a pant. "Always such a needy little thing."

Laxus's large hand grazed your clit. You shivered at his touch, crying out as Laxus's thumb traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Laxus felt his dick twitch and pressed harder, touching you teasingly slow.

"Mm-ngh- I-I'm g-gonna cum," You whined. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your insides snap. You cried out, your body spasming slightly.

"Fuck," Laxus swore. His cock, unbearably hard, buried itself all the way to the hilt inside you. It pulsated with each subsequent spurt, swelling still as he emptied inside your womb. The stimulation leaves you trembling and out of breath.

You have little time to recover as your mate puts you over his shoulder and takes you back to your bedroom. He’s still painfully erect and hasn’t had his fill of you yet.

Sting- 「Radiant Sin」

Sting is the most cocky and the biggest tease out of all the dragon slayers. It’s almost like a game to him, and he takes great satisfaction in the sight of you begging for him. Still, he is quite the jealous one and like Natsu, picks fights with the males he feels threatened by in the guild. Poor Yukino doesn’t quite understand the change in behavior at first and tries to mediate some of the conflict, but Minerva, for lack of a better word, tells her to just leave it alone and not to get in between the stupid fights of hormonal men.

You on the other hand are rather antsy. You can tell it’s that time of the year, and you’re slowly losing your composure, becoming more flustered due to the pheromones Sting was unintentionally releasing while trying to arm wrestle Orga.

Rogue is the only one to notice your growing discomfort. While he isn’t really affected by your scent in the sense it turns him on, but rather it’s giving him a headache. And since he views you like a little sister, he hates to see you suffer and your dumbass mate neglect to take care of you.

“Y/n, are you ok?” Rogue gently coaxed, brushing your hair out of your face, noticing how warm and flushed you felt.

“It’s just a little…hot, Rogue,” you mumble, trying not to let him pick up on the way you’re practically squirming in your seat. He’s a fellow dragon slayer, so even as embarrassing as it is, he knows what’s going on. And, he knows how to get Sting’s attention.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Rogue said, “as you know I value our friendship and respect your relationship with Sting.”

You’re too dazed to quite understand what he meant until you picked up on a new scent: Rogue’s own pheromones. As compared to Sting’s almost vanilla like scent, Rogue has a more deeper, woody fragrance that definitely stands out against the sweet scent you’re emulating.

It’s almost instantaneous the way Sting’s head snaps over to your direction. One quick look at your flushed expression and he’s abandoning whatever he was previously doing, rushing to your side, not before roughly shoving Rogue to the side. Rogue merely ignores the menacing glare he receives, while Sting quickly scoops you up into his arms bridal style and dashes out the guild in a flash of light.

By the time you both make it back to your shared apartment, Sting himself’s starting to feel the effects of his rut beginning to mess with his head. The whole time he was carrying you, you kept nuzzling your head into his neck, whimpering quietly with need.

“Sorry Angel,” Sting huffs, trying to set you on the bed, but you cling to his shirt, not letting him go.

“Sting, please,” you beg.

“Please, what, Angel?” Sting coos, prying your hands off of him and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other teasingly traces down the side of your waist. “I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.” You pout, making your mate chuckle at your expression which he honestly finds cute.

“Please, touch me.”

“But I already am.”

You huff in frustration, not in the mood for games. You try hopelessly and fail to break from Sting’s hold. Something about you being so powerless and fragile against him fueled an inner carnal desire within Sting, not one just to protect but in his eyes, you were his prey. And he wanted to dominate you in every way.

“A-ah, fuck,” Sting swore, his composure slowly crumbling away. He tore away your clothes. The sight of you bare and exposed had him brimming with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Angel. And you’re all mine.”

You couldn’t help feel flushed at his words, covering your face in embarrassment when you felt something prod at your cunt. Sting wedges one finger into your core, then a second one, scissoring you to stretch you out. You whimper at the penetration.

“S-Sting…”

“Shh, just relax.” Sting adds in a third finger. Now, the burn is gone and a satisfying stretch is left in its place. You moan. Your hips involuntarily buck against his hand, searching for more relief which makes the blond chuckle. “Eager, are you?”

"Sting, please," you whimper as you chase your high. Sting’s thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You clench around his fingers, signaling your release, but at the last second he pulls away. You whine at his teasing and pout.

“Don’t worry, Angel,” Sting said, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. He palms himself through his trousers, the low guttural groan he lets out has you shivering in anticipation. His self control has run out. “You’re not going anywhere until I have you cumming around my cock and carrying my child.”

You quickly help Sting remove his pants, eagerly wanting him to fulfill his dirty promise. Sting pulls you into his lap so that you're straddling him. His hardened erection pokes at your core, making your tremble with need. He teasingly rubs against your clit, but never actually enters which makes you whine.

“Please, Sting, don’t tease me.”

“Heh, you’re cute when you beg.” Sting grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock. The sudden penetration and deep angle made your breath hitch. Tears prickled in your eyes. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” String groaned.

Desperate for more, you slowly raise yourself up and down the length of his cock, with minor assistance. Letting out a low moan, Sting tilted his head on the back of the headboard. He loved the way you felt around him. You were so tight, which meant he could only stretch you out more, and you equally loved the feeling.

Eventually, Sting retook the control, bucking upwards in tangent with your own movement, making him reach that sweet spot that had your legs trembling. "Ah fuck, Angel, you take my cock so well!" Sting panted.

He felt you tightening around him even more, practically trying to milk him for everything he had. His dick twitched before the first spurt of his cum shot into your womb.

"S-shit."

Sting hugs you into his chest, biting down on your neck to ground himself. You slump against his hold, all your energy gone as your orgasm washes over you. You stomach feels hot and bloated from being filled with Sting’s release.

You don’t even get a full minute of rest before Sting flips you on your backside, his cock poking at your entrance once more.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” A mischievous grin spreads across Sting’s face. “I said I’m not stoping until you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Rogue - 「Shrouded in Lust」

Rogue is the most gentle of the dragon slayers. Your relationship is relatively new as you’ve only been mated for about a year and a half, therefore he often still treats you like porcelain. In fact, he feels guilty when his desires take over, even though neither of you can help it. He often prioritizes your pleasure over his own, so sometimes you have to coax him into letting you take care of him.

In fact, Rogue honestly falls into rut a few days before your heat finally starts, and he’s pretty embarrassed by his lustful urges and tries to somewhat ignore them. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t deny his instincts, and no matter how much he fucks into his hand, it doesn’t replace you.

Rogue grunts as he comes for the nth time, painting the shower wall white with his release. It’s his fourth shower of the day, and the desire only feels more intense, nagging at him and making his head fuzzy. He quite honestly can’t take it anymore.

You’re practically a saint when you arrive home. You immediately notice the thickness of the pheromones clouding your apartment. It catches you somewhat off guard at first and makes you dizzy. After dropping your belongings off at the door, you quickly follow the smell to the source, growing hotter as the pheromones intensify. You’re surprised and immediately worried upon finding Rogue sitting in the running shower, his eyes completely glazed over and out of it.

“Oh my god, Rogue!” You’re instantly at his side. The shower is ice cold but his face is flushed red with fever. “Rogue, love, can you hear me? Come on, let’s get you dry.” Rogue is all but limp as you step into the shower to hoist him up, getting soaked in the process. The water turns your shirt sheer, your nipples poking through your bra as your intoxicating scent fills Rogue’s nose. His breath hitches.

“I-I’m sorry.”

You don’t get the chance to respond when you’re hoisted up and pressed against the shower wall. Rogue’s lips attached to yours in a frantic, desperate manner, and you become acutely aware of his little problem down stairs.

“Mmph, ah! Rogue, w-wait,” you groan.

“I-I’m sorry.” Rogue buries his face into your shoulder, heaving heavily. “I-I can’t control myself. I’m sorry but fuck I need you so bad.”

You cup Rogue’s cheeks, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, making him whimper at your gentleness. “It’s ok. Just let me undress. I don’t like the feeling of wet clothes.”

Rogue has just enough patience to let you remove your clothing. But the minute you unclasp your bra and throw your panties to the side, that restraint breaks and he pins you back against the shower wall, caressing your supple skin. “I’m sorry I’m so impatient, but I want to put it in so bad.” His cheeks are burning red from embarrassment as he grinds shamelessly against you. Despite the shower practically feeling like ice now, the overwhelming arousal has him burning up.

“C-can I put it in?” Rogue peppered kisses against your neck, nipping at the skin. “Please?”

“Always such a gentleman,” you shakily exhale, grabbing Rogue’s leaky cock to align at your entrance. “Fuck me like you mean it, Rogue.”

At your request Rogue bullies his cock in your cunt. As you whimper, he lets out a guttural groan of satisfaction. The feeling of your tight hole finally clamping around him made Rogue want to cum on the spot. Did you always feel this good?

"Ahh f-fuck..." Rogue stammers. His mind slips into a haze of lust, and his body moves on its own, rutting into you rough and fast in desperate search for his release. He hikes your leg up higher around his waist to fuck into your deeper. You gasp at the feeling, the uncomfortable arch in your back made your toes curl and stars dot your eyes.

"T-there! A-again!" You beg, wrapping your arms around Rogue's shoulders to hold him close. "I-I-m close-" Capturing your lips again, Rogue sucked hard on them in order to bruise. With his free hand, he jabbed his thumb against your clit, proving additional stimulation.

You squealed as you came, biting down on Rogue's tongue. The action made him growl. You clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.

"F-fuck, I'm close!" Rogue pants. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.

He comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he presses you against the wall, biting into the crook of your neck. You squirm feeling him release into your heat. From the days of pent up frustration, Rogue cums hard and a lot. So much that you feel it trickle down your leg, making you shiver.

There's silence between the two of your for a few moments as you both recover from your orgasms.

“How long have you been hiding it from me?” You gently brush the wet hair out of Rogue's face. His cheeks flush red in embarrassment, which he tries to hide by burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"About four days..." he mumbles shyly.

"You don't need to keep things like this away from me, love. I'm yours as much as you are mine." The gentle kiss you place on his forehead, though endearing, instantly makes him hard again; his body betrays him as his stiff cock aches for your touch once more . You could only giggle at Rogue's embarrassed whine. "Go ahead. I'm all yours."

Gajeel - 「Iron Heart」

Gajeel is another major tease. Your bratty behavior only turns him on and enacts a predatory desire within him. He doesn't particularly care who hears his dirty words in response to any attitude you give him and quite honestly, takes it as a challenge. In fact, it turns him on the way you become instantly shy and bashful when he threatens to "punish your little ass" in public.

"You're so vulgar," you huff angrily. "I can't stand you."

"Gihi," Gajeel merely laughs, following behind into your shared room.

"you have no sense of shame! I won't be able to look at Lucy or Cana the same again."

Gajeel grins. He thinks it's cute how you put on the tough act despite how much he towers over you. "I don't really give a damn. The whole world can know how good I fuck your pussy for all I care."

Your cheeks flush red, the heat burning more as he corners you to the bed. "Y-you asshole!"

"Yeah?" Gajeel groans. You’re appalled when he palms himself through his pants, a noticeable tent forming at his crotch. Was he seriously turned on right now?! "What else?" Gajeel taunts.

"Y-you y-you-" You stammer over your words as Gajeel pins you to the bed.

"What? Where's that attitude of yours now?" Gajeel's devious smile only grows wider at the way you squirm against his hold. "Since you like running your mouth so damn much, why don't you put it to use. On your knees."

Your body obeys before your mind could register. Gajeel sits on the bed while you drop down to your knees before him. After you unbuckle his belt and release his stiff cock from the confines of his boxers, a relieved groan left Gajeel's lips. He was a lot bigger and had a lot more girth than you anticipated. Did your insults really turn him on that much?

"A-ah! Don't tease me, doll," Gejeel moaned. He threw his head back as Your warm mouth fully enveloped the head of his dick. Another moan left his lips as you began harshly sucking on him. You forced yourself to deep throat him. Whatever you couldn't fit, you used your hand to stroke him. Gajeel bucked his hips up, nearly making You gag on him and tears prickle in your eyes. You continued to slurp and grace every inch of his cock with your tongue. The sensations made his mind go blank.

"F-fuck! You suck me so good." Gajeel grabbed You by the hair and pulled you away from him much to your confusion. He then stood from the bed in front of you, holding your head. His dick throbbed, precum oozing from the tip. His release was so close, he could feel it from the way lust hazed his thoughts. "Open up. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours," Gajeel said.

You gladly did. He shoved his entire length in your mouth, making you gag. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a shaky moan. He pulled back before forcing himself back in again and again. You couldn't breath. Drool dribbled down your face as you damn near choked. Seeing your lewd expression only turned Gajeel on more.

"You like that doll?" He panted. "You like choking on my fat cock don't you? That pretty little mouth of yours feels so good around me. I could cum on the spot." You only whined in response. Your hands gripped Gajeel's thighs as you tried to steady yourself and get used to his rough pace. "You like when I fuck that mouth of yours, don't you? You're such a good girl. Taking all of me like that."

His cheeks flushed red. The pressure of his release finally snapped. "Ugh fuck! I'm coming!"

Gajeel quickly halted his movements. He practically had a death hold on Your hair, emptying into your mouth. He came a lot and suddenly. You coughed, spitting some of the salty seed out once it unexpectedly hit the back of your throat.

You tried to regain your breath after being practically forced to choke on his length. But the sight of you sitting in front of him with his cum all over you was enough to make Gajeel hard again.

"Strip," he commanded. "I'm not done with you yet doll."

You quickly shed your clothing and undergarments, leaving you completely exposed before the male. Gajeel licked his lips hungrily, eyeing you up and down. His stare made you bashful, but to the dark haired man, you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Absolutely beautiful," Gajeel mumbled, pressing his lips against Yours. You eagerly let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands groped your breast. You moaned meekly and rubbed your thighs together.

"Gajeel...please..." You whined. The dragon slayer let out a little chuckle.

"So impatient doll~" Lifting you up with ease, Gajeel carried and gently laid you back on the bed without breaking the next kiss. He cupped your cheeks while biting your lip teasingly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't even remember your own name."

With that, Gajeel rammed his cock into Your wet core. You cried out in pain at the sudden penetration. You held on to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your nails dug into his back leaving red marks.

"F-fuck!" He put one hand on the headboard trying to steady himself. "Ahh you're so tight doll," Gajeel groaned, giving his hips an experimental roll. The way you clenched around his cock nearly made him cum on the spot. He captured your lips again before pulling out and hitting again. His pace soon quickened and the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure.

"Ah fuck doll, you take my cock so well!" Gajeel panted. Sweat covered both your bodies as the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room. "You like it when I fuck you senseless, don't you? You're clenching around me so tight I could just explode."

"G-Gajeel! Please!" You moaned out. Gajeel grabbed both of you legs and placed them over his shoulders. The new angle hit harder and deeper. You cried out, begging for more.

"Such a greedy girl aren't you? You like it when I'm this deep in you?" Gajeel grunted. "No one else can make you feel this way. Got it?" When you couldn't form any words to respond, Gajeel slapped your thigh making your squeal. "I said you got that? Who can fuck you this good?"

"Y-you-" Y/n gasped.

Gajeel grabbed your hair, pulling harshly. "I don't think I heard you properly, doll. Who can make you feel this good?"

"You Gajeel!" You yelled. He smirked letting out a chuckle.

"Damn right." His orgasm quickly approached. His pace faltered just a bit, making his thrusts more sloppy. His low grunts turned into loud moans. "Ah, fuck I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so deep you're going to be dripping with my seed."

A loud moan left his lips. His hips stilled and his release hit; he bites down on to your shoulder, drawing blood. You shivered feeling yourself be filled. After he was sure he finished, Gajeel pulled out and sat back on his heels. He stared down at you with a satisfied look on his face as some of his seed leaked from your swollen sex.

Gajeel then flips you over, hiking your ass up to the height he wants.

“W-wait-Gajeel-“

"Gihi We're not done. By the end of the night, everyone will know who you belong to."

Round 2?

[navybrat817]

Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink princess

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:

“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.

“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.

“how you could date a girl like y/n.” 

your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.

“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”

you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.

“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”

you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.

“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”

“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”

“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.

“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.

“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”

kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.

“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.

“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.

“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.

rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.

“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.

“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.

--

“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.

“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.

“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.

“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.

“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.

“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.

“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.

“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.

--

“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head. 

rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”

you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”

“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.

“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.

“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”

“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”

rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”

you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”

“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”

“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.

“promise.” rafe nods.

“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”

--

you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.

“y/n-” 

you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions. 

“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.

“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.

you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.

“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.

rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.

what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.

you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.

--

“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.

“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.

“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going. 

“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”

you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”

“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.

rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.

“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.

in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.

--

“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.

“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.

you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.

“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away. 

“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”

“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.

“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”

you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.

“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.

“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.” 

“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”

--

“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.

“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.

“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.

“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”

rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.

“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.

you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.

“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.

he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.

“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.

rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.

“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.

“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.

you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.

“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.

you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”

rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.

“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.

“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”

“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you. 

it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you. 

you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin. 

“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.

you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[chokamo]

crossing paths

pairing : single dad!charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary : you moved to monaco, a place you never expected to call home. after an unexpected dm, you met charles, leaving you to wonder whether it was fate or coincidental.

a/n : this is part one of the “fateful encounters” series .

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, charlesleclerc, user and others.

yourusername 📍🇬🇧 hope i make it out of here

user so excited to see 💞

user have a safe trip

user love the caption

yourbsf YEAYYY

you liked this comment

user is this the girl charles followed recently?

user -> yes she is !

user -> omgg

user uhhh who is she 😬

user -> y/n is a model / content creator. ☺️

user -> based in the uk ;)

user -> and is moving soon

user cute girl

you added to your story .

yourbsf liked your story .

yourbsf is that WHAT YOU ARE BRINGING ??!

you replied -> uhhhh yeaa…?

yourbsf -> you do know you are going to MONACO right? not hawaii, ibiza orrrr bali

you replied -> leave me and my summer dream ALONE 😠

yourbsf im speaking from concern u better pack necessary stuff !!!

you liked the message

charlesleclerc liked your story .

charlesleclerc -> hey, i saw you are moving to monaco

charlesleclerc -> can we meet up?

seen just now

if someone had told you that you’d end up in a long-term relationship with your neighbor, you would have laughed and brushed it off with a “that’s crazy!” or a “in what world that would happen?” but here you were, as it turns out you were wrong.

it was around the month of may. you had recently moved to monaco for a job opportunity, and, by some wild coincidence, the building you rented your place was the same building he lived in, and, little did you know, it’s the same man who’d soon be occupying more of your thoughts than you’d ever expect.

with the help of your best friend, you managed to moved all your belongings up into your new apartment. boxes after boxes piled up like a mountain, and you’d think after months of dedicating to “decluttering” you’d minimize the items you own, hoping that it would fix your life. but it didn’t and here you are sorting it all out.

“i cant believe you are finally here in monaco” she exclaimed, while folding the boxes down in the corner, with a large grin.

if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was the one moving, with how bright she’s smiling.

“right? it feels like a dream.” you replied, laughing.

“yeah, and as i was saying. as your friend who cares about you, you better hook up with some rich monaco dude here” she teased, pointing at you with faux seriousness, her eyes glistening with mischief.

you laughed, rolling your eyes. “oh please, don’t get me started with that, i just got here!”

“i’m serious!” she insisted, a playful smirk painted on her face. “monaco is full of hot guys - you’re bound to snatch one up. . . i mean, just look at you!” she exclaimed making a show towards yourself “you are a total catch, babe!”

“you say this with every country we’ve been to” you pointed out, chuckling at her antics.

she shrugged playfully “ well, have i ever been wrong about this?”

you nodded your head, “ yes and yes, but i’ll test your theory out” you said with a wink.

time passed, and the adrenaline rush quickly faded turning into a comforting silence.

after countless of kisses and gratitude of thank-yous for her helping hand, she turned to you with a shaky smile.

“don’t miss me too much, will you?” she teased.

you let out a shaky laugh “ i’ll try, you know how much i need you in times like this”

with one last hug, she rushed off to catch her flight back home, leaving you to settle alone.

you couldn’t lie - you were nervous. this was your first time being in a foreign country living by yourself which only made it harder to accept. despite all the months of planning and preparation, it still wasn’t enough to ease the knot in your stomach as you stood infront of the building taking it all in, you sighed and made your way back inside the lobby, wondering what this new chapter of life would bring.

unaware of the person infront, you had accidentally bumped into them, knocking the item they were holding as it tumbled to the ground making a light thud noise. you gasped, at the sound more concerned about potentially breaking the person’s item more than your own stupidity. quickly, you knelt down and moved to pick up the fallen item - what you now noticed was a phone and swiftly handing it back to its owner.

“im sorry, so sorry” you blurted out, your mind racing as panic seeps through your system. what a good first impression, you thought, note the sarcasm. it wasn’t until seconds later after - you realized you’d spoken english in monaco, where the people dominantly spoke french, and suddenly, feeling self conscious about it. but before you could back track, thankfully, the person spoke english as well with an accent you could assumed sounded local ;

“don’t worry about it” his tone sounding amused.

you lifted your gaze to take a look at the mysterious man, your eyes trailing and tracing over his features - his lips, his shining eyes, the tousled hair. he was undeniably attractive, you realized, a thought that would lingered longer than you might expected.

then, suddenly, something clicked. that undeniable beautiful eyes and his gorgeous face - you had seen him before. your breath hitched as recognition dawned on you.

it couldn’t be. . .

but there was no mistaking it now. the man standing right before you was none other than charles leclerc. the man who dmed you the other day, but didn’t have enough time to respond.

this wasn’t just a coincidence, or was it? your mind raced, trying to grasp the situation. the man in front of you or was it really fate - the universe bestowed upon you?

breaking your shameless staring, a sheepish smile tugged-on your lips, “i’m really sorry about this. it’s not the best way to start the morning with, is it?” you said with a small huffed.

he smiled, chuckling softly “it’s not something you experience every day - that’s for sure” he replied.

“though i wouldn’t mind getting interrupted by you” he added, his smile remaining on his beautiful face sending jolts down your body and leaving you feeling fuzzy. “in exchange for your time “ he continued, his accent making the word lulled like musical notes.

you blinked, your mind freezing at the brazen request “ you want me - uhh my time?” you echoed playfully after breaking from your shock, trying to match his boldness.

“you would be suprised” he said lowly, his voice dropping down to murmurs.

“i’m charles, i live here,” he continued, his voice smooth introducing himself .

“oh, really?” you said jokingly, already knowing who he was. “i live here too” you replied.

his eyebrow arched in a feign suprise “i’ve never seen you here before?” he remarked, seeping through his tone as he studied your face.

“ i just moved in. . . today” you explained.

“ah, i see,” charles said thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you raised your eyebrows, genuinely surprised by his nonchalant tone “you already knew that? didn’t you?”

he grinned, “you caught me” raising his hand into a playful surrender pose “your best friend told me about you” he added with a mischievou glint in his eyes.

your eyes widen in shock, “my best friend?” you gasped.

“she’s a good help, credits to her for - “

“no wonder she was persistent about that earlier” you confessed, feeling betrayed by her slyness, a knowing smile crept to your face, recognizing how she was always on the lookout for a chance to play matchmaker. “i should have seen it coming.”

after a brief pause, he nodded, “it was nice meeting you y/n” his lips forming into a smile.

“it’s a pretty name” he complimented, his smile widened, showcasing his full lips.

you offered him a soft smile “thank you” .

“take care, then.” his words were simple but warm, and you returned the gesture with a quiet, “you too.” you whispered softly.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted to charles. in a massive building surrounded with so many people - the probability of running into him is slim, you figured you would never see him again. and maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. a part of you was relieved by the thought.

but as much as you tried to convince yourself, there was a stubborn part of you that hope to cross paths with him - just once more.

but what you didn’t know was that charles hoped the same. how could he not? his aka “celebrity crush” or whatever, pierre, his best friend teased him with was you.

the moment he came across your page, he was hooked. he wanted to get to know you. but he had no way to communicate you - not until your move to monaco, it gave way as a perfect opportunity for him to meet you. even if it was just a friendly exchange, he wanted to seize the chance to get to know you better.

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and others.

yourusername first week here 🇲🇨

user GORGEOUS

user so exciting

yourbsf found him yet? 😏

you replied -> PRIVATE message exist and yes you traitor

user gorgeous

user hellooo

charlesleclerc beautiful 🤍🤍🤍

you liked this comment

user -> WOAH

user -> new girl??????

user -> AND she’s im monaco

user -> this was the same girl he followed awhile ago.

user -> damn.

user -> OMGG

francisca.cgomes 💞💞

you liked this comment

user -> YESSSS

user -> a NEED to see them together

user -> 😫😫😫

user -> are they friends???!

you added to your story .

yourbsf liked your story .

yourbsf -> missing youu

you replied -> imyyyyy moreee

francisca.cgomes liked your story .

francisca.cgomes -> gorgeous 💐💐

you replied -> says you 🫶🫶

charlesleclerc liked your story

charlesleclerc -> hey, if you have time

charlesleclerc -> would you like to go out and meet somewhere?

you replied -> sure ;)

you replied -> what time?

a/n : tell me how u feel about this lol (my writing is mehhh and i re read this so many times i gave up even checking for any errors) and part two will come in october <3

checkout the fateful encounters masterlist

part two is already out -> here

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, the events and characters depicted are not based on real life, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?” 

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?” 

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

[hoe4sports]

Harm

Leah Williamson x reader ft Sam Kerr

A/n: Been battling this huge writes block for a month now. If you have any tips on out to get rid of it, send help. You need to use your imagination on this bby

Warning: Angry Sam

Summary: You and your ex-wife struggle co-parenting

-

You look at your watch.

18.53.

It’s now 1 long hour and 53 whole minutes since your ex wife, Sam, was supposed to come pick up your daughter for the weekend.

You don’t really know why you thought it would be different this time, it’s always been like this. From the moment you found her tangled up in her best-friends arms at your home, she’s been someone else. Someone you don’t recognise.

It’s none of your business anymore. You know that she parties and drinks, probably more than what’s healthy. And you know that it’s always a new girl. It’s always the same type of girl too, partygirls.

It’s the same never ending cycle. She gets a girlfriend, then she cheats on her with some random girl that she eventually ends up dating before the cycle repeats itself.

A part of you wants to take your daughter away from her. To never let her see her again. You’re her mom, you are supposed to protect her from harm. But, what do you do when the harm is her own ma?

“Still not heard from her?” Leah hums, her voice coming from behind your back.

You sigh at her while closing the blinds again, letting the last bit of hope disappear. The tears are now pressing in your eyes. You feel defeated. Leah immediately wraps you in her arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll sort this out” she reassures you. You nod while sniffing into her shirt, standing it with tears.

Your daughter coos from her little bouncer, kicking her feet with excitement. Her toothless grin spreading on her face. You can’t help it, but to turn your head to look at her. She brings a smile to your face. Her similarities to Sam aren’t there anymore. She’s growing into her own person. She has copied down Leah’s smile, just like babies does. Your hair, and your eyes. Not a single piece of Sam left in her. It eases your heart, it makes you feel less sad about your cheating ex-wife.

She cheated when you were just 1 week into your first attempt at getting pregnant. You didn’t leave at first, you did everything you could to salvage it. There wasn’t a single solution that you hadn’t tried. But she didn’t even try. The reality of the situation was that it fell through your hands like sand.

You don’t really understand why it happened. Why she chose her newfound best-friend over her wife and her daughter. It’s something you was forced come to terms with, but that you will never find in your heart to understand or forgive. Perhaps, it’s more that you have accepted the situation without being able to fully grasp the aspects of it.

Leah pulls away from the hug after giving you a kiss on the head. She moves towards your daughter, Ella, and scoops her up in her arms. Ella lets out a big yawn when she feels the comfort of Leah’s arms, settling in comfortably.

“I think that someone is up way beyond her bedtime, isn’t she?” She coos at the little baby in her arms. The sight of them makes your gaze soften, and your body relax. You can’t help it, but smile. They share something special, you just know it. Their bond is unique.

“Should we go upstairs to go night-night, huh Ellabear?” Leah asks as she leans down to kiss your daughter‘s forehead.

“Would you mind putting her down, baby? I think I need a minute..” you excuse to Leah, offering a sad smile.

You know that she’s more than happy to put her down. In fact, she’s been more than happy to put her down since even before she was born. Always excited for all the milestones you reached. Always there, always present.

Leah nods at you before taking Ella’s little hand to wave at you, you smile sadly back at them before they disappear up the staircase of your home.

You look at your watch again. 19.06. It’s been over two hours. That’s where you decide that she has missed her shot for the weekend. You move to the kitchen to find your backpack with your pencils. You reach for your notes before writing down the details around the yet again, missed agreement.

The divorce was messy. Sam wanted the baby. You refused. She pushed for visitation, and time with her daughter in court. You refused. But, Sam somehow ended up winning the case. Of course she did. She hired the best lawyers money could buy. It made your blood boil. Your lawyer recommended that you would write down every time she didn’t pick up Ella, and the details around missed visits.

Leah’s footsteps were soon to be heard coming down the staircase. Her hands eventually placed on your shoulders, lightly providing you with a gentle massage.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Leah’s voice hums. Her soft tone makes your body relax towards her frame.

“I’m just, hm, I think I feel disappointed for Ella. I know she won’t remember this, but the guilt is eating me alive.”

Leah wraps her arms around your waist before turning you to face her. Your eyes meets her, and you share a moment of silence while embracing each other.

“Ella is safe, she’s fed, she’s warm, she’s dry and she has a mommy and a Leah that loves her so much” Leah whispers in your ear.

The statement makes you feel safe, like you are the luckiest girl in the world to have Leah to lean on. To have someone step up to the responsibility when Sam failed. Leah didn’t have to, she had absolutely no obligations. But she still stayed.

“She has a mommy and a mama” you mumble into her arms, “you and me”.

Leah hums in response before your hands intertwine. Your heartbeat slows down, and your breathing softens. It feels safe. It’s feels warm. It’s like your mind unconsciously knows that you and Leah are building the foundation of a future marriage.

Her sincerity and warmth has you drawn to her. How she’s fair, how she never lets anyone get away with anything and how she is protective of what’s hers. You know that she will defend you to the end of the world, even if that means defending you when you are wrong. It’s one of her core values, to never embarrass you infront of others by arguing or correcting you.

Then, there is a knock on the door. The moment fades, and the memory is ruined by the continuous hammering on your door. Your heartbeat fastens again, and your breathing feels quicker and shallow.

You look over at Leah, and see that her fists are turning white. It’s only fair. You would feel that way too if you had something to outpower Sam. But you don’t. She’s taller, stronger, faster and more assertive than what you are.

The banging doesn’t stop, and soon enough you hear Ella’s scared cries in her bedroom through the baby-call hanging around Leah’s neck.

Leah looks at you and urges her head towards the door.

Normally you handle moments like this. But you are just so tired of it. Of Sam showing up drunk or hangover, demanding her daughter to be brought to her. It always scares you. Sometimes, you have nightmares about it. That someday, she’ll drive over drunk and get away with your baby. The kind of nightmares that only can be calmed by seeing that Ella is safe and having Leah holding you while softly stroking your back.

Leah looks at you again while nodding towards the door. The banging is still loud. This time, you can hear Sam’s voice through the door.

“For fucks same, give me my daughter. It’s my weekend! I know that you are awake”

You shake your head violently before tears swell in your eyes. You cannot find it in you to deal with Sam tonight.

“Go” Leah whispers while pointing upstairs. Your eyes widen.

“But what if she hurt-“

“I’m stronger and taller, I’m gonna be fine. Go calm Ella down, and I’ll be there soon, okay?” Leah urges moving towards the door.

You nod rapidly before going for a beeline up the stairs. You hear the door open up as you move upwards.

“Leah? Get me my kid will you” Sam commands.

Leah crosses her arms while looking firmly into her eyes.

“No, it’s past bedtime. She’s sleeping, or was before you scared her”.

“Nah, listen mate, this doesn’t involve you” Sam laughs before pushing towards the door.

Leah pushes Sam away from the entrance before grabbing the handle.

“I pay for the diapers, the clothes, the food. I put her to bed, I wake up with her at night and I wake up with her in the morning. I give her kisses and hugs, and I give her baths. What do you do?”

Sam looks at Leah with a gaze in shock.

“I, uh, I.. This is ridiculous, can I come and get her? It’ll be quick”

Leah grabs the door handle, and closes the door. But before she completely closes it, she looks Sam straight in her eyes.

“No, I suggest you leave before I call the police on trespassing.”

[lunasfics]

Found Family - Under the Blossoms

summary: You’re new to that concept, it’s one thing you have yet to fully adjust to. The concept of people actively choosing to love you as you are, people who care if you disappear without a trace, people who see your flaws and shortcomings and still choose to see the good in you. 

this is sort of a continuation to found family! read here

pairings: Batfam x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 2k

request: "I neeeeeeed more Wayne-Kent daughter stuff. Your first post was truly amazing. Can I request a fic gets really upset about something and she hasn’t been home in a couple days. Everyone is looking for her but she’s hiding somewhere far away, maybe in Japan surrounded by cherry blossoms and a koi pond in the forest. Clark finds her and brings Bruce with him to see if she’s okay. You can change anything that you want but just the premise of the reader missing. Thank you!!! " requested by @ashdoctor

a/n: hi! i would first and foremost like to thank the sender of this request because I have had the worst writers block and this kind pulled me out of it :).also this not not proofread so sorry in advance for any typos,,,, anyway, this is kinda focused a bit on bruce and y/n's relationship cause they're both like. fucked up and complicated lolol but yeah I hope you like it! ALSO! i based the old japanese couple on a haikyuu character kita shinsuke, cause why not i thought it'd be fun

“Shit.” 

“Well I’ve flown through all of Gotham and Metropolis twice, and did a once-over around the country, not a trace. I’m getting really worried.” 

“She has to be somewhere, how long have we been searching?” 

“Going on day 3.” 

“Fuck.” 

“I’ve checked every landmark I’ve taken her to see during our training, I haven’t seen her once.” 

“We’ll keep looking.” 

The comms have been flooded for the past two days with nervous chatter and consistent but pointless updates in regards to your unknown whereabouts. Clark and Connor have been doing the physical searching while Bruce has hacked into any and every surveillance camera he could in hopes of the system picking up your face somewhere, anywhere.

Your siblings have taken over Gotham patrols, Barbara occasionally taking over the online search while Alfred forces Bruce to get some sleep. 

You’ve been living with him for well over six months now, adjustment has gotten easier for you, and you’d gotten more comfortable in going off on your own to explore. Now, Clark never has a problem with this, encouraging you to explore as much as you could, “The world has so much to offer, soon you’ll understand why we care so much for keeping it safe” he’d say. 

Bruce however felt it was reckless to use your powers so casually, you shouldn’t depend on them the way you do, that it's a liability to your civilian life. It’s not something you should be so careless about, “Your safety and well-being is not someone you should take lightly.” 

Naturally, you are too stubborn to see this was purely out of worry, that he actually cares for you. You’re new to that concept, it’s one thing you have yet to fully adjust to. The concept of people actively choosing to love you as you are, people who care if you disappear without a trace, people who see your flaws and shortcomings and still choose to see the good in you. 

Maybe that’s why you reacted the way you did during your last conversation with Bruce. The seething anger that heated your bones, the dense lump that formed in your throat as you spoke. The unpleasant pit in your stomach as you slammed the cave door behind you, the sweaty palms and the inexplicable reflex within you that told you to keep yourself guarded. To not let these people close enough to stab you in the back, to protect yourself and your skills. Do not allow yourself to be held back.  

So now here you are, on some farmland in a tiny town in Japan. You weren’t sure this town has had access to any recent tech for at least the past ten years. It was a refreshing change, it reminded you of all your favorite things about Smallville. The smell of the crops and the way the cherry blossoms bloomed along the outskirts of the fields in the spring. The pink of the petals was soft and peaceful, the wind blowing softly through them released a pleasant floral smell that made you feel at peace. 

Arriving there was an experience, you just flew and flew until you found yourself in a field at the crack of dawn, opening your eyes to an elderly Japanese couple standing over you, concern etched into their aged faces, confusion was evident in the way they spoke to you, but so was kindness. 

Mr and Mrs Kita were kind people, taking you in without question because they knew you were in need. They told you their story, about their grandson and how he goes to school in the city.

And so they invited you in and were delighted to find that you speak Japanese, although their dialect was different from yours, they welcomed you with open arms. You’ve worked in their fields the past two days, finding peace within yourself, and as nice as it was, you missed your family. 

Back in the house, the couple observes you as they do everyday, you pay no mind as you continue to harvest crops. 

“She’s a bit of an odd one, isn't she?”

“I quite like her, honest worker, though she seems as though she carries a heavy burden.” 

“Yes, I noticed that. She's quite adorable, she almost reminds me of our Shinsuke.”

“I do see it Dear, perhaps they’ll meet when he visits for the summer.” 

“I do hope so.”

“I’ve got something.” Bruce stood in his seat, gloved hands clicking away relentlessly as the batcomputer, pulling up a global map of movements that have broken the sound barrier within the past week.  

Clark stood behind him, eyeing the screen that was littered with red lines, the United States being full to the brim given their recent search. There were more streaks around the world leading to the landmarks, all which Clark could recall making. However there was one that stood out to him, a singular streak that abruptly stops in the middle of Hyogo, Japan. 

“What could she possibly be doing in the middle of Japan” 

“I really don’t know Clark but we need to go now. Wait for me outside, I’ll update the others.” 

All that was going through Bruce’s mind was seeing you again, having a rational, calm conversation where he isn’t so wound up from a failed mission and where you don’t feel so backed into a corner. 

Bruce Wayne isn’t very much a man of expressing feelings, granted, over time he has improved immensely, but he is nowhere near perfect and neither are you. You’re two people, a father and his daughter who are trying their best to be better for each other and for those you love. 

Bruce is a man who at times tends to lack patience, there are not many things he isn’t good at, unfortunately being emotionally vulnerable is one of the things he could use improvement on. 

That’s probably why he let you go that night instead of chasing after you, and it’s probably why he stayed silent while Lois was telling him off when he first told her and Clark that you were missing. 

If he’s learned anything in his time as a father, it’s that he’d do better, and he will continue to be a better father today than he was yesterday. 

Regardless, he knew he needed to get his daughter.

For one hour every day, at one o’ clock, you went and sat under the cherry blossoms, inhaling the comforting floral fumes, feeling the defined rays of sunlight peak through the branches of the tree and onto your soft skin. 

You knew the soft breeze by heart now, the way it felt softly dancing through your hair, the cool sensation of it against your hairline as it kissed away the beads of sweat formed by the day of work in the sun. You had decided last night that today you would go home, as peaceful as it was there you missed your family. You missed your dads and brothers and sisters, you missed the civilians you’d help on patrol. You missed helping people, but more than that you missed your family. You missed baking for them and laughing with them, learning about life and society with them by your side every step of the way. You had decided that today at sundown. you would leave everything in order and organized for the Kitas and bid your farewells, of course you would visit soon, they’re  kind people who took care of you when you needed it. 

You immediately knew something was off when you felt a sudden gust of air, uncharacteristic for the climate in this area. You knew for certain something was off when you heard the familiar swoosh of that cape. 

You turned slowly and sure enough, you saw Bruce, walking towards you in long powerful strides, Clark not far behind him. 

His steps are aggressive, almost sloppy, his strides large and powerful, his walk having more purpose than you’d ever seen it. 

You prepared yourself for the lecture, the mental image of his condescending glare as he breaded you for your lack of self preservation, your recklessness, how this could have compromised your identity, how you're stupid, so so stupid. How you don’t think. How you’re not worth it, a lost cause-

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around you before you knew what was happening. The scent of cologne and the faint smell of metal filling your senses, why isn’t he yelling at me? 

“I was so worried. We all were. Please, don’t do that again, we’ll talk it through next time. I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle, not what you were expecting, his voice was kind, so much so that you felt your eyes glaze over, a wet sensation making its way down your cheek. . You were crying. There was that puddle of warmth pooling in your chest, that sense of security and safety. Clark came up behind you and held you tight, the feeling intensified. 

Ah. Now it made sense. His steps weren't aggressive, they were nervous, emotional.

“You really had us scared there, kiddo. Next time, come to Metropolis, or Smallville, or the tower, anywhere with anyone, but talk to us. We’re always going to be here for you because that’s what family is.” 

Tears fell from your eyes, though you didn't understand why, tears were typically for sadness, but you weren’t sad. These were tears of disbelief, of joy, of love. How funny it is that you never, not once thought you could possibly be cared for like this, that you could ever obtain a proper family like the kinds you learned about. You decided then and there that you would be damned if you ever lost them, if you ever left this. 

“I’m sorry I left, I shouldn’t have. I was going to go back today– the people. The people here have been taking care of me, I was going to help them and say goodbye.” 

Clark shook his head, “You don’t need to apologize, it’s okay, Y/n. Why don’t you go say goodbye, and we can have dinner with Ma and Pa. Sound good?” 

You nodded gingerly, feeling like a small child, you never got a childhood, you didn’t get coddled nor did you get spoken to in a loving manner. You were never reassured nor were you truly shown kindness until the night they saved you from that lab. 

The world is a cold and scary place. You’d seen some of humanity's worst, you were created by them, you were intended to be one of them. You’ve found that within the world there’s kindness, there’s love, there’s peace. 

You pulled away from them and made your way through the field and into the house, smiling at Mr and Mrs Kita sitting at the dinner table playing a game of chess, Mrs. Kita stood and smiled at you, as if she already knew. 

“I want to thank you both sincerely for your hospitality, I can’t thank you enough for the kindness you have shown me,” your voice shook but you continued, “I promise to visit again soon, and anything you need, please let me know and I will give it to you.” 

Mr. Kita laughed and shook his head, “You owe us nothing, if anything we owe you, the fields look better than I’ve ever seen them, you’re always welcome here.” 

Mrs. Kita smacked his arm lightly, and smiled and pulled you in for a hug, “That isn’t the only reason, what he means is we will always welcome you here with open arms, Dear, be safe.” 

You hugged them and retreated back to your dads, joining them on their way back to Kansas, where your loving family was already waiting.

Bonus!

“My goodness! Did you see that scary man in the cape outside? How cold he looked.” Mrs. Kita shuddered as she laid next to her husband. 

“Yes, I did, and my, that bulky fellow in the blue? He could do without the leggings.” 

“I think they do him quite a service… from behind at least.”

“My goodness Yumie, have some class Dear.” He shook his head.

She laughed, “Well, you don’t have it like you used to, old man. I’d like something to look at every so often, why don't you go buy yourself some leggings?” 

He scoffed, “Not happening, Woman. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. They best not keep Y/n from visiting or I’ll fly to the states and get her myself.” 

The room erupted into giggles and laughter, it was peaceful in the small farm in Hyogo that night.

Taglist! Went ahead and just reused the one from the first chapter! If you'd like to be removed, send an ask to let me know!

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag @biadoll21 @blublock404